


To Have and To Hold: The Tragedy of Emilie Agreste

by wellsaltedlady



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Dubious Consent, Emotional neglect, F/M, Loss of Sexual Desire, Marital Problems, Paonne, Peacock Miraculous, Rise of Hawk Moth, Sentimonster, Sexual Deceit, accidental dub-con, low libido, not a dead bedroom but maybe it should be, what happens when you don't go to therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25521535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellsaltedlady/pseuds/wellsaltedlady
Summary: Emilie Agreste was known for her kindness. Indeed, the greatest tribute to that fact was embodied in her son Adrien. She couldn't have been a villain. Then why did she want to use a Miraculous? As it turns out, for a very personal reason...
Relationships: Emilie Agreste & Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth
Comments: 31
Kudos: 14





	1. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie Graham de Vanily befriends Gabriel Agreste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains mentions of verbal and physical abuse.
> 
> The lycée years seconde, première and terminale are equivalent to 10th, 11th and 12th grade in the U.S.A.  
> Emilie and Gabriel’s university programs lasted three years.

"Gabriel, tell me the truth. Do you hope to be more than friends with me?"

His friend, Emilie, sat across the table from him at a mid-scale restaurant, their now-empty dinner plates a testimony to their college-age appetites. Her question caught him off guard. He began to panic. When had she realized what he had buried deep within?

No, this was no time for reflection. Her persistent green eyes sought the answer to a question that his heart both wanted to affirm, yet had never dared hope for.

“Yes.”

“Since when?”

_Since I first laid eyes on you._

* * *

Emilie Graham De Vanily was a new student at this lycée. She was excited at a chance for a new beginning, unhindered by the fact that this was her final year of school. She wanted to make the most of this fresh start, so she signed up for the theatre club and set about making new friends.

Gabriel Agreste was an insignificant member of the student body. Although he was shy and quiet, he was highly motivated academically, a budding illustrator with a keen eye for fashion. 

In order to bolster her confidence for the first day of _terminale_ , Emilie decided to dress up in one of her mother’s old bridesmaids dresses. It was emerald green lace and chiffon, with a bateau neckline, elbow-length sleeves and knee-length skirt.

It was her dress that initially caught Gabriel’s eye. Only after a full minute of admiring her attire did he look up to gaze on her countenance. He was immediately smitten. She was stunningly beautiful. Her features were gentle and perfectly crafted. Her face held both excitement and hesitation, her cautious smile at her new surroundings striking him like an arrow to the heart. 

_She is so far out of my league,_ thought young Gabriel. _No matter! I will appreciate her at a distance. How could I not? She is perfect, an ethereal beauty._

For months, Gabriel could only admire her from afar. Although they had not yet spoken directly, he already felt as though he was getting to know her simply by observing her. She had a peacefulness about her when alone, yet when her girlfriends engaged her in conversation she was vivacious and bubbly. He had long sketched design ideas in his notebook; now he would often sketch Emilie's head above some of his favorite designs.

Gabriel was also a member of the theater club. He contributed as a set designer and costume designer. Emilie had a minor acting role in their current production. 

One day after rehearsal, the lead actor tried to flirt with Emilie. She quickly maneuvered away from him and walked to the back of the auditorium in retreat, where Gabriel had been sitting alone, sketching. 

Gabriel had noted over months of observing Emilie that she rejected every boy's advances, be they via winks, debonair smiles, small gifts or cards, or excessive flattery. She would give none of them the least bit of encouragement. It made her seem even more inaccessible. Since she had rejected the popular guys, he thought he didn’t stand a chance. Becoming a mere friend was the best he could hope for.

Having noticed her present discomfort, Gabriel worked up the courage to speak to her. "Are you alright, Emilie?"

She hadn't even noticed him sitting in the back row. He had a large drawing pad on his lap and a pencil in his hand. Eyeing him curiously, she said, "I've seen you around here. What's your name?"

"Gabriel Agreste. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Although she was still wary from her encounter with the actor, she walked closer to him to look at his drawing. "Is this for the next play?"

"Yes. The director wanted us to get a head start so we'd have plenty of time to order materials."

Her eyes scanned the page, considering every detail. "You're a great artist."

The dim light hid his blush. "Thank you."

"What else do you like to draw?"

Pausing briefly to think, Gabriel pulled out a smaller sketchpad and flipped to show her a design for a V-neck cap-sleeved mermaid silhouette dress. 

Her face lit up with wonder. "That's gorgeous!"

He flipped a few more pages and showed her a sleeveless high-low dress with a round neckline and a satin sash around the waist. "Wow!"

Turning a few more pages, he showed her what looked like a _qipao_ with an A-line skirt in a red, black and white floral print. Fascinated, she asked, "Are these all original?"

"They are."

"You're really talented. I would wear any of these."

Stunned, flattered, grateful, Gabriel declared, "You'll be the first to wear them before they hit the shelves."

Her laughter was refreshing, like wind chimes on a breezy day. "So you're aiming to be the next Gaultier or Dior?"

He smiled. "Indeed. I plan to succeed."

"Well, please remember me when you're famous!"

"I should ask you to do the same. I think you could land the lead role in the next play if you audition for it."

Emilie studied his face. He was serious, encouraging, and wasn’t overtly flirting with her. Feeling safe, she smiled genuinely. "Thank you, Gabriel." She turned to walk away, but then remembered, "Oh, and, I'm alright now."

As she walked back toward the stage, Gabriel wondered if he had just fallen in love.

* * *

As Gabriel predicted, Emilie secured the role of lead actress in the spring play. She and Gabriel would occasionally chat during rehearsal breaks, but they couldn't be considered more than acquaintances. He didn't have the courage to pursue her, and she didn't have him anywhere on her romantic radar. This was their routine during the months of rehearsals.

After each of their three performances, boys would come up to her afterwards and offer her flowers of every kind, from tulips to red roses. With each, she offered a graceful "thank you" and moved along. 

After their final show, a small crowd of people had gathered around her, praising her performance. Gabriel dawdled at the back of the crowd, holding amaryllis behind his back. He felt unsure if he should give her the flowers, unsure of what she would think of the gesture. The lead actor noticed Gabriel standing there and shook his head. _As though this dork has a chance with her!_ He elbowed Gabriel a little too strongly and told him, "You're such a chicken. Watch this." He pushed his way through the crowd and offered his flowers to Emilie with a confident smile as the female fans in the crowd gasped and whispered. "It's been a pleasure acting alongside you, dearest Emilie. Your talent and your beauty are unmatched. Please be my girlfriend?"

Unfortunately for him, there had been a brief lull in conversation the moment he insulted Gabriel, so she had heard his cocky remark. Bullying the helpless was the one thing she couldn't stand. She took the flowers with a delighted smile and inhaled their fragrance. "These are lovely. I gratefully accept them as a parting gift. I hope to never speak with you again." Gasps erupted around them, but she walked right past the actor directly to where Gabriel was standing and addressed him as though they were alone in the room. "How was the play, Gabriel?"

Gabriel's downcast face turned up in response to her purposeful attention toward him. "Wonderful, Emilie. The troupe and the stage crew pulled off this last performance flawlessly, and you were radiant." He brought his hand forward from behind his back and extended them toward Emilie. "For a worthy person, inside and out."

She was truly touched. "Thank you, Gabriel." She smiled and walked away, leaving behind a slack-jawed lead actor and an even-more thoroughly enamored set designer.

* * *

Although Emilie had sworn off dating jocks, she still liked to attend games and matches with her girlfriends from time to time. The lycée's fencing team was hosting the final championship game of the season one Saturday, so the group of girls decided to check it out. As they were ultimately unable to follow the high speed attacks, they resorted to gossiping quietly. When the fifth set of contestants stepped onto the piste to shake hands, Emilie noticed one familiar face. "Is that Gabriel Agreste?"

He put on his mask before her girlfriends could see. Emilie lost interest in the conversation, choosing to focus on the match as best she could. She had had an impression of Gabriel as the cerebral type, and his lanky frame did not hint at any athletic ability. She was pleasantly surprised that Gabriel won his bout and confirmed his identity when he took off his mask.

As the tournament would take several hours and the girls had lost interest, they decided to leave, but not before Emilie asked about an approximate ending time.

Several hours later, the group of girls ended their collective outing. Emilie stopped by a bakery before returning to the school gymnasium. She sat through one final bout before the conclusion of the tournament, when Gabriel was awarded a second place trophy. 

As the crowd began to disperse, Emilie approached Gabriel and tapped him on the shoulder. "Surprised to see you here."

Her voice caused his heart to start pounding. Gabriel turned around. "I could say the same about you. Have you been here the whole time?"

"No, we left to get lunch and go window shopping. I just came back to congratulate you."

He blinked, flustered. "Thank you."

She handed him a small box with petits fours. "I must say, I'm surprised. Most athletes I meet enjoy flaunting their talent. But here you are, a champion fencer, and this is the first I’ve learned of it."

"It's nothing to brag about, just a fallback plan for getting a university scholarship."

A small smile appeared on her face. "Hmm. Well, your humility is refreshing." She noticed his teammates looking her way and murmuring among themselves. "Do you get along well with your teammates?"

He broke eye contact. "Fencing isn't exactly a team sport in the traditional sense. That's why it suits me. I don't make friends easily."

"Well, you seem friendly enough to me. Perhaps _we_ can be friends?"

Gabriel looked at her with wonder. "I would like that very much."

She smiled joyfully. "Enjoy your petits fours. See you at school, friend." She turned and walked away, leaving Gabriel to wonder whether his thumping heart could be heard outside his body.

* * *

Gabriel had been accepted to ESMOD; Emilie to Cours Florent. Upon graduation, he made sure to exchange phone numbers with her in order to stay in contact.

During their first year at university, Gabriel would call her periodically and they would catch up over coffee. Eventually they developed a routine of monthly friend-dates to various playhouses or art museums. Gabriel cherished every opportunity that he had to spend with Emilie. He had resigned himself to the idea that his romantic hopes for her could never be realized. Therefore, their chats and outings remained strictly platonic.

Ironically, it was his lack of romantic overtures that led Emilie to believe he had more noble intentions than other men.

* * *

Gabriel fulfilled his promise as the first year of his studies ended. He had sewn three original dresses as part of his final projects, and once they were graded, he gave them to Emilie as a gift. She was floored. Yet amidst her delight, she had to wonder. _Perhaps he wants to be more than just my friend._

They dined out together shortly before the Graham de Vanilys would leave for a summer in the U.K. As their meal wound down, and feeling slightly loose from the wine, Emilie tried to confirm her suspicions. "Gabriel, tell me the truth. Do you hope to be more than friends with me?"

His face flushed instantaneously. She could see the sweat form on Gabriel's forehead; he dabbed it with his handkerchief, saying nothing.

"Well?"

His gray eyes locked onto her green ones. Gabriel hated the sensation of panic. He reminded himself that he could dominate any situation that he chose; he could be the master of his own emotions. The possibility of rejection need not crush him. She had asked for the truth; and he owed it to her. "Yes."

She smiled slightly. "Since when?"

No longer hesitating, he confessed, "Since the first time we spoke."

She laughed sweetly, a sound he would never tire of hearing. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not pushing me."

"I don't understand."

"Let's just say, you did all the right things at the right time." She paused. "You're... welcome to try to court me when I return from abroad."

Gabriel felt like the gods had just laid a precious gift in his lap. He smiled confidently. "Thank you, Emilie. I shall."

* * *

Upon her return at summer's end, Gabriel promptly brought her a bouquet of red roses. Henceforth, they chatted over the phone more frequently and had weekly dates, just the two of them. They got to know each other much better over the next two years, although Gabriel never joined Emilie’s friend group when they went out. 

Yes, she felt safe with Gabriel. He never pressured her. It made her feel special in a quiet sort of way. She could see the awe in his eyes whenever he looked at her. In fact, he was quite timid when it came to showing physical affection, never attempting more than holding her hand or putting his arm around her. She took it as a sign that he respected her. She felt validated knowing that he enjoyed her company without the requirement of physical intimacy. Not that she really wanted it. Although she grew to care about him very much, she never got butterflies in her stomach or felt heat rise within her when he was close to her. As nice a guy as he was, she simply didn’t find herself drawn to him physically. But then, what had physical attraction gotten her? She'd dated three boys in lycée, and though they'd all been gorgeous, each had been worse than the last.

The first boy to win her heart was Sylvain, a star on the soccer team. He made her feel special, like she was a part of something bigger than herself. Plus, he was a good kisser. She was so infatuated by her first love that she didn't mind him showing her off like a trophy to his friends, or telling her what to wear, or spending _her_ allowance money on whatever _he_ wanted to buy. Emilie thought she was in love. She gave her virginity to this boy, confident that their love would only grow. But one day, just a few months into their relationship, she saw him making out with another girl. Unable to breathe, she finally understood how a punch to the gut felt. She was blindsided by the betrayal. Absolutely shattered, she went home and cried on her sister Amelie’s shoulder. Later that night, she broke up with him via text message. Emilie felt like a fool for trusting Sylvain so easily and devoting all of herself to him so quickly. She told herself she'd be more careful next time. 

Soon, however, she found herself spending a lot of time with a boy named Arnaud. He intrigued her with his nonchalant, beatnik air. He would wax philosophic about the futility of love and the longing of the soul and the cruelty of humans. He wooed her with impassioned recitations of romantic poetry. Emilie ignored the warning bells in her mind and became his girlfriend. She had not, in truth, allowed the first wound to heal, but had instead numbed her pain with the balm of prose and poetry. 

She enjoyed the first few months of their relationship. Her intellectual boyfriend didn't show her off like a trophy. But eventually, he started telling her not to hang out with her friends, so she stopped seeing them. He would accuse her of cheating if she merely greeted another boy in the hallway, so she learned to keep to herself. He'd insult her intelligence in a pitying way, which eventually caused her to question it herself. He would alternate between calling her a prude for not wanting to have sex with him and cajoling her with, "Don't you love me?" Eventually, she gave in, gave herself to Arnaud. He would reward her with lyrical pillow talk, but day after day, the insults and demoralization continued. It later dawned on Emilie that this wasn’t what love should be, but she felt frozen, unable to change anything in their dynamic.

When _seconde_ let out for the summer, she stopped seeing him. Amelie had convinced her to break it off. That summer, she spent lots of time with her girlfriends and did the things that _she_ wanted to do. Little by little, she learned how to be herself again, making her own decisions and trusting in her own wisdom. Thankfully, Arnaud transferred to another lycée for the fall, so she didn’t have to face him again.

Emilie managed to stay single for the first half of _première_. Fabien happened in the second. When they returned from winter break, they were paired together to work on a project. She did not intend to fall for the blond, blue-eyed, sturdy rugby player, but his alluring presence sure made it difficult to focus on their assignment. Once again, she shoved her mental warning bells aside, preferring an impromptu make-out session in between rows of library shelves.

Fabien was sweet at first, giving Emilie hope that this boy might be different. But eventually, his true colors shone through. Once at a restaurant, Emilie accidentally spilled her drink on his clothes. He maintained his temper at a simmer as they walked out to the back alley to "talk about it," where he slapped her for ruining his hundred Euro outfit. Whenever he got jealous, imagining that Emilie was flirting with another boy, he would corner her after school and yell at her while grabbing fistfuls of her hair so she couldn’t look away. Because of his threats, she was afraid to tell her parents about what was happening. Emilie became a shell of herself, afraid to assert her desires and opinions, walking on eggshells around her boyfriend in an attempt to avoid his hair-trigger temper.

The summer couldn't come soon enough. She cut all ties with Fabien, and even changed her phone number. With Amelie’s help, Emilie convinced their parents to transfer her to another lycée for _terminale_. She managed to stay single that year, helped by Amelie’s frequent reminders to guard her heart.

After a few flings during her first year at university, Emilie also came to realize how differently men acted toward her before and after they first had sex. They were always so sweet and chivalrous beforehand, but afterward they would quickly begin to take her for granted or find a reason to break up with her. She started to think that men only saw her as a conquest, not as a potential life partner.

Emilie very much wanted to marry and have a family, but was unsure how she would find someone stable and decent, given her track record. It seemed that none of her previous love interests had ever desired a long-term relationship with her. 

Maybe she was going about this whole thing all wrong. If her goal was to find a life-long partner, then perhaps she should consider candidates who stuck by her side through thick and thin, rather than starting with passionate attraction and later figuring out if it would work in the long term. That play-it-by-ear method had only led to heartbreak.

Emilie decided that, before committing to another relationship, she should use her head, not her heart. _First of all, I ought to marry someone who respects me, who I can be myself around, who won't yell at me or hit me or manipulate me._ _Second, perhaps there's some sense in that "wait until marriage" thing._ She decided that, among other things, a man who wouldn't push her for sex until they were married might just end up being "Mr. Right."

Yes, her ultimate goal was to find a marriage partner, someone who would honor her for a lifetime. She was determined to make a wise decision this time. At least, as wise of a decision as she was capable of. Her heart be damned, she was going to follow her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Reyemile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reyemile), [SteelBlaidd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelblaidd), and [Tempomental](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tempomental), for beta reading this first chapter!


	2. Engagement

During their final semester at university, right before spring break, Gabriel had planned a special date for them. He was anxious; it was essential that everything go smoothly that day.

As fate would have it, nothing went smoothly. He had hired a horse-drawn carriage to pick up Emilie, yet just as he was guiding her by the hand into the carriage, the horse defecated. As Gabriel's nerves were already on edge, he could not hide his disgust. He chastised the carriage driver. “How revolting! A lady shouldn’t have to put up with this. Is this the level of service you provide all your clients?” 

Emilie was surprised. This was the angriest that she had ever seen him. “It’s really not a problem, Gabriel. I’ve been around horses before. I know what they do. I really don’t mind it at all.”

Gabriel calmed down. “I’m sorry. Are you comfortable?” She hummed in affirmation.

The carriage took them to a dock on the Seine, where they boarded a river cruise. They strolled along the upper deck, choosing a spot to lean on the outer rail and waited. The boat had been due to depart fifteen minutes after they arrived. Half an hour later, it was still stationed at the dock. Gabriel excused himself and went to find the captain. Emilie trailed behind without him knowing. When he found the captain, Gabriel snapped at the older man, "I thought you people lived by the clock. What is the reason for this delay?"

"My apologies, sir, but there is an unexpected problem with the motor."

"And how long is this going to take to repair?"

"We are uncertain. You are still welcome to dine on board, or retrieve your ticket from the ticket taker and board another company cruise a few blocks up."

Gabriel fumed. "Unacceptable!"

The captain, who was accustomed to handling angry customers, simply replied, "There is nothing more that we can do," and turned away.

Emilie lay a hand on Gabriel's shoulder. Not knowing it was her, he turned sharply and greeted her with an angry glare. His demeanor softened immediately upon seeing her. "Oh, I'm sorry, Emilie, I thought you had stayed by the railing."

Wide-eyed, she replied nervously, "I came here with you. I didn't want to be left alone."

Gabriel smiled. "Well, would you prefer to dine on this stationary vessel, or find another dining establishment?"

Cautiously, she answered, "I don't mind eating here and then strolling up the Seine later." 

As they took their seats, Emilie decided to address what was bothering her. “You know, that really wasn’t necessary.”

Gabriel noted the disappointment in her face. “I’m sorry, Emilie. I just wanted everything to go perfectly today.”

“I don’t need perfection. I just want to have a nice time with you.”

The kitchen was out of Emilie’s first and second choices on the menu. Gabriel simmered in silence at this restaurant’s ineptitude, but Emilie was unfazed and simply picked another entrée. Even her third choice was delicious.

Having enjoyed the food, they stepped off the boat and began their stroll along the Seine. Emilie had worn very high heels, not expecting to walk the better part of a kilometer. The pain in her feet drove her to sit down on a bench. "How much farther, Gabriel?" 

Gabriel paled. "Just a little further, please. We're almost there." Emilie slipped off her heels, planning to walk the next block barefoot. (She'd rather tear up this new pair of pantyhose than count on sore feet the next day.) Dismayed, Gabriel said, “Emilie, I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have to step with bare feet on these dirty city streets.”

Confused and a little frustrated, she asked, “So what? Are you going to carry me on your back?”

Now, Gabriel Agreste wasn’t the type of person to give piggyback rides, but today of all days he wasn’t going to say no to the woman he wanted to marry. Feeling awkward, he bent down in front of her so she could climb onto his back. He lifted her and began walking. _This really isn’t so bad,_ he thought. Emilie, meanwhile, found herself smiling widely. She knew this wasn’t like him, and it made her giddy that he would bend over backwards to accommodate her. He finally stopped at the railing and pointed. Looking in the indicated direction, she saw an enormous banner spanning the next bridge that read, _Emilie, will you marry me?_ He heard her gasp and then said, "Our cruise was supposed to take us under this bridge. I'm sorry you had to walk."

Suddenly, all his uncharacteristic anger made sense. He wanted the biggest day in his life to be perfect, and it hadn't been. Her eyes remained glued to the sign as he put her down. She read it over and over again as she considered. Her heart beat rapidly as she realized, _He wants to spend his life with me!_

The faint sound of a small box snapping open caused her to turn her gaze. Gabriel was on one knee in front of her holding up a small diamond ring. She knew his family wasn’t as wealthy as hers, yet he had saved enough money to buy an engagement ring. She looked at his face for a moment before looking again at the ring. Hope mixed with the fear of rejection.

What _did_ she want? Did she want to marry Gabriel? She wanted to be married, that much she knew. He was smart, talented and considerate of her. He had never hurt her. He was nothing if not loyal. Certainly he would never cheat on her or leave her. She believed he valued her in a way that no other man ever had.

"Okay," she said.

"Okay?" he asked cautiously.

She smiled. "Yes, Gabriel. I'll marry you." He stood up and slipped the ring on her finger, and she pecked him on the lips.

* * *

Amelie had also gotten engaged recently. Faced with such simultaneous blessings, the twins' sole surviving grandparent, Henriette Graham de Vanily, invited both of the engaged couples to her countryside villa in early May. The four carpooled to Normandy, with the sisters chattering away in the backseat and the men mostly silent in front. Upon arriving at the estate, they were greeted by wildflowers coloring the meadows and horses grazing in the pastures. When they knocked on her front door, Henriette welcomed her granddaughters effervescently. "Darlings! I've missed you so. How wonderful to see you again! Come in! Come in! And who are these fine young gentlemen?"

Emilie introduced Gabriel, and Amelie introduced her fiancé, Cyril. He was a finance major whom she had dated throughout university. Tall, blond and blue-eyed, like his future brother-in-law, he was on track to become an investment banker.

They then made small talk as they dined in the veranda. Henriette inquired about the young mens' upbringing, education and life plans. After the meal, she told the twins, "I have some gifts for you. Go look in my bedroom." They shared a look and then giggled, deciding that for one last time, it would be okay to scamper off as though they were still little girls and enjoy the simple pleasure of oohing and aahing while opening presents. 

So Henriette was left alone with her future grandsons, whom she soon addressed. “I love my granddaughters equally. I have something important that I desire to pass along, but I couldn’t decide whom to give it to. I don’t want my granddaughters thinking that I’m playing favorites. I know this is nontraditional, but it’s the best thing I could think of that would be unbiased yet not completely random. 

“My late husband adored riddles. So, I will ask you a riddle. The first of you to answer correctly will receive what I have to give.”

Cyril and Gabriel looked at each other.

“May the cleverest man win,” Cyril said, extending his hand.

Gabriel shook his hand. “Indeed.”

Henriette proceeded, "There are two sisters: one gives birth to the other and she, in turn, gives birth to the first. Who are the two sisters?"

Both young men considered it carefully, but it was Gabriel who answered first. "Day and night." 

Henriette smiled. She then removed one ring from her right index finger and one from her left, placing them in her palm and looking at them fondly. "My late husband and his brother were twins. After Germany invaded Poland in 1939, our nation declared war on Germany. The brothers signed up for military service, but they were to be assigned to different regiments. They had never been apart for very long. Not knowing whether they would survive combat, the young men took all of their savings to a jeweler and had these matching silver rings custom made. Each ring reminded its wearer that his brother was still with him in spirit, despite the many kilometers separating them.” She paused gravely and frowned. “When the war was over, my future husband was given his brother's ring." 

Then a wistful smile replaced her frown. "I met him after the war. He placed his brother's ring on my finger on our wedding day, since, he said, I would become even closer to him than his brother was, and if we were ever parted, I would be the one he would most want to remember." She looked at the young men. "Indeed, that is how it should be. A sibling bond is strong in youth, but wanes with age. Once joined with your spouse, the strength of your marital bond should only increase. I am getting old. I thought this time fitting to pass these on." She extended her hand to Gabriel, placing the rings in his palm, then enfolded his fingers over them. "May these rings ever remind you of your undying love for one another."

"Thank you, _Madame._ "

She smiled heartily. "It's _Mamie_ to you, grandson." She hugged him. "Now go see if your wife is done admiring her gifts. We'll catch up with you in a minute." After he was out of earshot, she turned to Cyril. "Please don't be disappointed. I've placed a deposit with a jeweler in town so that you can choose new rings for you and your bride."

"Thank you, grandmother." 

“You’re welcome, darling. Enjoy this exciting time of preparation!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Reyemile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reyemile), [SteelBlaidd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelblaidd), and [Tempomental](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tempomental) for beta reading!


	3. The Early Years of Marriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Audrey makes Gabriel famous. Emilie discovers that life with a newborn is far less glamorous than she expected.

Gabriel and Emilie were wed soon after graduation and moved into a flat in the 8th arrondissement. 

Gabriel had completed internships at two different fashion houses during his second and third year at university. He had learned a lot about the business side of things during that time. He understood how to bring a concept to completion, and he had developed skills in marketing and networking. Yet although his creativity had been encouraged by his employers, it had also been stifled. Only certain aspects of his designs had ever been selected for the final garments. Gabriel wanted his full visions to come to life. So, despite receiving offers of employment from more than a few fashion houses upon graduating, he decided to launch his own brand. He was sure that the rise of the Internet and online shopping would enable his start-up company to get noticed much more quickly than in a previous era. He leased a small studio and strategically focused on completing a menswear collection, a sector in which he would have less competition from other up-and-coming designers.

Meanwhile, Emilie worked as a drama teacher at a nearby lycée and continued to act in the theatre. Her days were filled with lesson plans and eager young faces, while her evenings were filled with rehearsals and performances. 

The months passed quickly with them engrossed both in their work and in each other. Emilie became pregnant about six months into their marriage. From then on, she took on no new acting roles, but was able to finish out the school year.

During that time, Gabriel had been successful at getting certain upscale boutiques to host both his mens’ and womens’ designs. Utilizing Emilie’s connections with bigger-name actors and actresses, he loaned out custom pieces which they wore during interviews or at movie premieres. By the height of summer, the product placements got him noticed by none other than Audrey Bourgeois, who at the time was lead editor of _Paris Charm_ magazine. 

Gabriel’s timing couldn’t have been better, because it was turning out to be an unusual year for fashion, and Audrey was frustrated, to put it mildly. The trends in streetwear that year were as horrendous as they were varied. Even worse, several high-end designers seemed to have taken their cues from the masses, introducing the most uninspired designs she had seen in a lifetime. 

So when she saw Gabriel’s suit on an actor at the premiere of the latest action movie, she immediately recognized the boldness and innovation of its style. 

Gabriel soon found himself presenting his full collection at the magazine’s headquarters. Audrey and several of the magazine’s staff members sat quietly as each piece in his collection was presented one by one, some on mannequins, some on models. Audrey nodded at several pieces, and even smiled at one, which was nearly unheard of. At the end of the presentation, she spoke to those assembled. “I’m relieved that there is at least one competent newcomer in Paris this year.” Addressing Gabriel directly, who stood at ease with his hands behind his back, she said, “It seems you’re one of the few designers who haven’t hopped on the ‘give ‘em what they want’ bandwagon.”

Gabriel smiled. “Of course not. I’m giving them what they don’t know they want yet.”

Audrey smirked. _He speaks my language._ “Honey, you’re going to be the next big thing.” 

She featured his menswear collection in the September issue of _Paris Charm_. _Gabriel_ brand took off after that, being showcased in Paris Fashion Week later that month.

It was around that time that Emilie and Audrey first met. 

Audrey Bourgeois was a woman in charge. In all of her relationships, she was the boss, and everyone knew it. Having risen to the role of editor of Europe’s leading fashion magazine, she had grown accustomed to controlling every detail of her organization, delegating both major and minor tasks and expecting them to be fulfilled efficiently with little direction, and routinely making grandiose demands as though they were unexceptional. Her subordinates respected and feared her. Strength and decisiveness were her signature qualities.

No one could have guessed that being pregnant was rattling her self-assurance.

She gave no outward indication of her inner distress. No one could tell by looking at her that anything had changed. But the truth was, Audrey’s pregnancy made her feel awkward in her own body. She didn’t want to be pregnant. She wasn’t looking forward to motherhood. Her magazine was her baby, and she didn’t need another.

Although some of her assistants suggested that she devote an issue of _Paris Charm_ to maternity clothing, she refused, instead making every effort to ignore the whole thing. She avoided self-reflection entirely, refusing to experience the vulnerability of her own emotions.

So on the day that she first met Emilie Agreste, she was struck by the contrast between them. Audrey was a woman who happened to be pregnant; standing before her was a pregnant woman in all her glory. She was also in her last trimester of pregnancy, but that didn’t seem to detract at all from Emilie’s elegance or poise, despite her altered center of balance and flat shoes. Emilie had managed to retain her self-confidence where Audrey hadn’t. Audrey could see clearly in Emilie’s face the serene and contented glow of someone who is ready for what lies ahead.

(What Audrey didn’t know was that Emilie’s radiance stemmed from her attitude about her pregnancy. Emilie was joyfully preparing for motherhood and very eager to welcome her child into the world.) 

Generally, Audrey’s opinion of a new person hovered on the edge of a blade. What would determine if she would bless someone with effusive praise or attack them with vindictive jealousy?

“Audrey, I’d like to introduce my wife, Emilie. Emilie, this is Audrey Bourgeois, the goddess from whom all our financial blessings flow.”

Emilie gushed. “Is that Chanel? You look amazing! I’m sorry, where are my manners? It’s an honor to meet you.”

Perfectly-timed flattery was awarded with _la bise_. So began an unusual friendship. 

* * *

Adrien was born a few months after their first anniversary. Emilie had decided that she wanted to stay home with him during his first few years, until he was old enough to start _Maternelle_ at age three. Gabriel’s newfound success could not have come at a better time for them financially, to make up for the loss of her income.

Emilie was happy, despite the perpetual exhaustion and typical new-parent worries that she experienced. She finally had a family, as she had long envisioned. Yet Gabriel had started to work longer hours in preparation for Fashion Week, and his absence from home meant that practically all of the household management fell to her. 

Okay, maybe things weren’t perfect, but she wasn’t going to complain. Sacrifices had to be made somewhere. This was probably just a phase.

Emilie soon discovered that staying home with a newborn child meant that time both crawled and flew by. In some ways, life felt like more of a whirlwind now than it did when she worked two jobs. And yet what did she have to show for it? In the eyes of her working friends and former colleagues, not much. When a friend would call and ask her what she’d been up to that day, she could only answer, “take care of the baby.” Then they would follow up with, “Oh,” and after a pause, “So, when are you coming back to work?” The mere thought would overwhelm her. _How could I do all this, AND work?_ Yet her friends didn’t understand, as evidenced by statements like, “It must be nice to take it easy all day.” _Take it easy? This isn’t easy!_

Adrien nursed every three hours like clockwork. It was weeks before she stopped experiencing sore nipples. After nursing, newborn Adrien would only be content to sit in a baby swing or lie on a blanket for about twenty minutes, in which time she’d try to get some chores done. After that he had to be held until his next nap an hour or so later. Then, of course, he needed to have his diaper changed. Urine was not a problem, but stools were quite a challenge. Liquid newborn poop could not be contained by the best brand of diapers money could buy, and boy, how it stained! She had to pre-wash his onesies by hand; the washing machine and the laundry detergent were no match on their own. She went through several burp cloths a day in order to protect her shirt from regurgitated breast milk. Even so, she still had to change her shirt a few times a day, if not for the spit-up, then for the leaky nipples. Finally, FINALLY he would nap, and she had to decide whether to do another necessary chore, shower, or try to get a catnap herself before he woke up and the 3-hour cycle started all over again.

Suffice it to say, sleep was difficult to come by. Emilie hadn’t felt well-rested since before the birth. 

On this particular evening, after three-month-old Adrien had finally fallen asleep in his cradle in the neighboring room, Gabriel was waiting up for her in bed. He smiled warmly and set aside his book. "How'd it go?" he asked about getting Adrien to sleep.

"I'd say about average." She got into bed, and he slipped his arm around her, nestling against her back in a spooning position. 

Snuggled up close, he asked, "How are you feeling? Didn't you manage to take a nap today?"

"I did, thankfully."

Emilie enjoyed being held like this. Most nights since the birth, he would just hold her and share a few words until they drifted off to sleep. But now, with his face pressed against the back of her head, she could hear him inhale the scent of her hair. That small cue made her aware that he had something more in mind.

He pushed back the hair from her neck and kissed her at the nape, slowly laying kisses up her jawline, on her cheek, then turning her chin to kiss her lips lightly. She could see the adoration in his eyes.

"I really miss being with you, Emilie." 

Her six weeks postpartum had long since past. It really _had_ been a long time since they'd had sex, she thought. _Perhaps we should? I just want to go to sleep, but it's been three months. Perhaps I haven't been fair to him to neglect him for this long._

It was obvious that Gabriel was trying to be sensitive to her needs, seeing as he hadn't even brought up the subject until now. Other men, she imagined, would have barked up the tree at exactly six weeks postpartum, not one day longer.

Emilie smiled, reflecting back her admiration for him, thankful for the patience he'd had with her. The look in his eyes then changed. Longing. Desire. He clearly craved to be inside her after such a long hiatus.

She kissed him deeper, signaling her assent. _Maybe it will feel good after we get started_ , she thought. _I kind of feel like I owe him, since it's been so long. I love him, after all. I want to meet his needs, even if I don't feel the desire myself._

As they kissed, his hands began to wander. Giving the OK was like releasing the hounds. Gabriel was eager. So eager, in fact, that he neglected to spend much time on foreplay. Within a few minutes, he was inside of her. 

And... she was not into it. She remembered when they used to make love before Adrien was born. It was pleasant and fun. But now she was just... there, lying there, looking at the ceiling. She didn't feel much of anything. And soon, she realized, she was starting to get sore. She was trying to decide whether she could describe this as painful or just very uncomfortable. Yet he was obviously enjoying this immensely. _Should I ask him to change position? Maybe he's close to climax. If I stay like this, he'll probably finish faster than if I ask him to re-position._

So she said nothing. Sure enough, he finished quickly. _Wow,_ Emilie thought to herself. _That was... boring. And bad. What just happened?_

"Emilie, are you okay?"

"Of course, dear. I'm just tired."

"Oh. I'm sorry darling. Thank you. Thank you. I needed that so much." Gabriel quickly fell asleep.

Emilie lay awake, a little disturbed at how much she disliked this experience. She reasoned to herself that this might just be a phase. Perhaps it would take time for sex to feel good again after giving birth. Yet something didn’t sit right with her, and she couldn’t figure out why. A ghost of an idea hovered at the edge of her thoughts, one that she wouldn’t be able to articulate for a long time after this, after many more comparable experiences. During the act, he hadn’t paid much attention to her. He didn’t do it _for them_ ; he didn’t do it _with her_ ; he did it _for himself_. He had changed.

* * *

From time to time, Emilie and Audrey would get together with their infants. Emilie would have admitted that Audrey wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around, as she would often deride others without a second thought. Yet Emilie found that, as long as she kept up a steady trickle of praise throughout a conversation, Audrey would treat her as a confidante rather than a target. And as she was not an object of her contempt, Emilie did not feel intimidated by Audrey, as her subordinates did. Normally, Emilie would confront a bully about their behavior, but as her husband’s company’s success hinged largely on Audrey’s opinion, Emilie chose to play politics and leave well enough alone.

Since Amelie lived abroad and her college girlfriends had no children yet, Audrey was the only other young mother that Emilie got to spend any time with. Emilie thought it was strange that Audrey never seemed to connect to her child. The Bourgeois had a nanny (two, in fact, one for the day shift and one for the night shift) so Audrey only spent time with Chloé when she felt like it. Even during her six weeks of maternity leave, she was making executive decisions regarding the magazine and leaving the care of her infant to her hired help.

But despite not truly knowing the minute-to-minute stresses associated with parenting an infant, Audrey still vented loquaciously about motherhood whenever they got together. Emilie would listen attentively, then sometimes make suggestions indirectly, usually by telling her what worked with Adrien in a similar situation. Audrey never thanked Emilie for her advice directly, but she always passed it along to the true caretakers.

Toward the end of Adrien’s first year, Emilie’s friends Caroline and Olivier approached her about acting in a film called, “Solitude,” for which he wrote the script and which she would direct. Emilie fell in love with the script and eagerly agreed to the role, but her friends hadn’t developed the connections for acquiring the necessary funding. So Emilie appealed to her father’s film studio to take on Caroline and Olivier, and she told Audrey Bourgeois all about the project the next time she visited. Emilie worked to convince Audrey to produce the film. Audrey was interested, yet she had to express some reservations.

“But they can’t film it in black and white, Emilie. A garment’s color is essential to its appeal!”

“A garment’s allure is apparent even in monochrome. Black and white is classy.” Emilie motioned to the outfit Audrey was currently wearing.

Audrey looked down at her clothes. Her expression quickly changed from dismay to assertiveness. “You’re right, Emilie. The trend this year is black and white!”

“So?”

Audrey sighed. “Alright, send me the budget sheet and I’ll send you a few of my top staff to assist with costume design.”

Emilie hugged her out of elation. “You’re the best, Audrey!”

Audrey tried to suppress a smile. “Don’t I know it.”

* * *

Adrien was close to three years old by the time “Solitude” premiered on the big screen. His parents had left him with a babysitter so they could attend the premiere party. Emilie shined on the red carpet. During the pre-screening party, she was ebullient and flitted from group to group, chatting with everyone from the grips to the film critiques. Keeping her hand on the crook of his elbow, she dragged a stoic and mostly silent Gabriel along with her.

The movie was well received by the audience, but Gabriel had words to say to Emilie after they got home. He hadn’t read the script or asked once about the plot during their year of filming. So he was surprised and enraged when he saw the onscreen kiss between Emilie and the lead actor. After Emilie put Adrien to bed and came to their bedroom, Gabriel unleashed his pent up fury. “How could you do this?”

Emilie was confused and surprised by his anger. “Do what?”

“You’re. My. Wife. How did you think I would feel upon seeing you kiss another man?”

“Oh, that. It’s just acting, Gabriel. It didn’t mean anything.” He glared at her. “He’s married, too. He has a wonderful wife. I met her. She’s nice.”

He glared at her a few moments longer. “How many times did you film that scene?”

Bewildered, she could only ask, “What?”

“How many times did you film that scene?”

She glared back at him. “I don’t remember, Gabriel. I wasn’t counting.”

He snapped. “You will Never. Kiss. Another actor. Ever again!” He grabbed his pillow and the blanket and started to walk out of the room. 

“I’m sorry.”

He stopped dead in his tracks.

“I’m sorry. I had no idea that it would hurt you. I thought you understood that acting sometimes entails those sorts of things. It really meant nothing. I have no feelings for him.” She walked up to him so that she faced him and put her hands on his shoulders. “Gabriel, remember. I chose **you**. I carefully considered my choice. I vowed to have and to hold **you** , for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, and I still mean that.”

“And yet you let him have and hold you.”

“He didn’t have me, and I did not love nor cherish him. It truly meant nothing to me, but now that I know that it means so much to you, I promise I’ll never do that again.” He finally looked at her, and she put her hands on his cheeks. “So, can you forgive me?”

He looked to be on the verge of tears. “Give me some time.”

Emilie chuckled softly. “I had no idea you would be such a traditionalist when it came to boundary lines. Your designs are so avant-garde.”

“Different spheres, Emilie.”

“Well, will you come to bed, or do you really intend to sleep in the guest room?”

He brought the pillow and blanket back to their bed.

* * *

Time had passed, and things had changed for mother Emilie. The madness of minding an infant had given way to a more manageable pace of life. Mornings at the playground, reading books aloud, singing nursery rhymes with fingerplay, mealtime, snacktime - the times when she did things with Adrien were balanced out with reasonable blocks of independent playtime. Plus, he was fully potty-trained. She decided that he was ready, so at three-and-a-half, she enrolled him in _maternelle_. 

Emilie herself was ready for a change. She had had enough of being a stay-at-home mom. She now felt a strong desire to get back to work full-time. 

Before Adrien was born, she had been accustomed to engaging in creative work and collaborating with colleagues, and although she appreciated having the opportunity to stay home with Adrien during his first few years of life, she had started to feel cooped up. It wasn’t a feeling she had anticipated having when she envisioned what motherhood would be like, but the reality that she discovered was that stay-at-home mothers really did spend a lot of time at home alone with their infants. She found herself craving adult conversation and intellectual stimulation. There were only so many times that one could recite _Am Stram Gram_ or sing _Une Souris Verte_ before feeling the desire to slam one’s head against a wall. Plus, the lack of social interaction with other mentally-developed human beings left her feeling lonely. It surprised her that she could feel lonely when she was not technically alone. She spent most of her waking minutes with Adrien. She hadn’t expected that she would need the company of anyone beyond her husband and son. Although, she also hadn’t expected that she would only get to share her husband’s company for a scant few hours each evening. Yes, she needed other people. It was time to apply for a job.

She had enjoyed her last job quite a bit. Thankfully, she was again hired as a _lycée_ drama teacher. Once the school year started, both mother and son adapted well to their new environments. Emilie was happy that everything seemed to be going according to plan.

However, later in the school year certain events occurred that gave Gabriel pause. 

A new boy in Adrien's class had severe behavioral issues and repeatedly hit, kicked or bit several classmates, including Adrien. Gabriel was furious upon learning of it, but Emilie managed to stop him from pulling Adrien out of school immediately. 

After the _lycée_ drama club's spring performance, Gabriel stood idly by as Emilie chatted with the other _lycée_ teachers and parents. Gabriel was keenly aware of some of Emilie's male co-workers flirting with her, although she seemed to not even notice. Jealousy brewed black inside of him. When she was single and inaccessible to him, when he didn’t have any right to her, the advances of other men only discouraged him. Surely gorgeous Emilie would choose a more handsome man over him. But now that she belonged to him, such advances were an affront. She was _his_ wife. No one else should flirt with her. He grumbled internally. Everywhere Emilie went, she was admired. And rightfully so. But some tiny part of him worried that she might be swayed, that her heart might be stolen away. He couldn’t let that happen.

Gabriel had made his decision, although he bided his time until the arrival of summer break. Then one day, he made his announcement. "Emilie, you will be homeschooling Adrien next year and from here on out."

Emilie was stunned. "Excuse me?"

"I will not have my son bullied at that sorry excuse for an educational institution, and I will not allow other men to make advances on my wife. I need to protect you both. Emilie, you are more than adequately trained to teach Adrien what he needs to learn academically. You can take Adrien to museums and parks and wherever you think is beneficial for his education, but regular contact with the same degenerate individuals in these institutionalized settings will not benefit either of you. Submit your letter of resignation and submit his withdrawal form. I will promptly order whichever homeschool curriculum you deem most appropriate to meet his needs."

Emilie couldn’t believe her ears. She trembled with anger. "But Gabriel, I want to work."

He responded gently, "Emilie, dearest, you don't need to work. We don't need an additional stream of income. Enjoy the freedom to do with your time what you will, to the benefit of our family."

She stared at him, fuming. "I. Like. Working."

"And you like reading and shopping and all sorts of other activities. Work is stressful. Choose something more satisfying."

 _How dare he patronize me!_ "I'm satisfied with my work!"

"You were also satisfied staying home with Adrien for over three years."

She struggled to remain calm. She tried to speak as clearly as she could with her throat as tight as it felt. "Yes, but Adrien doesn’t need such intense care anymore, and I’m ready to move on from that phase of life. Isolation is stressful."

"Isolation? I'm not isolating you. You're free to go anywhere any day."

“Being a stay-at-home mother is isolating, Gabriel.”

He blinked, not understanding, and swept it aside. "My decision is final, Emilie. As the head of this household, this is the decision I've made to protect our family from corrupting influences. I love you both very much and I am going to keep you safe."

Emilie slapped him and stormed out of the room.

Later that night, Emilie shivered in bed. She had never slapped any boyfriend of hers before. Once her anger had subsided, fear had crept into her mind. What would he do to her in retaliation? But she had nothing to fear. When he came to bed, he simply turned out the light and said, "Good night." _Nothing. Nothing happened._ She decided it would be safest to follow orders, although a part of her knew that she was being caged and that Adrien would not have the childhood she had imagined for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a quote from Diana Vreeland amidst Audrey and Gabriel’s back and forth.
> 
> If you’re wondering why Emilie didn’t speak up about her discomfort, here’s a clue: [The female price of male pleasure](https://theweek.com/articles/749978/female-price-male-pleasure).
> 
> Thanks to [Reyemile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reyemile) and [SteelBlaidd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelblaidd) for beta reading!


	4. Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel continues to tighten his control on the family. After several years, Emilie finally admits to herself that there's a serious problem and she needs help.

Emilie had been excited the year Adrien turned five, when they moved out of their tiny flat and into a small house in the 14th arrondissement. She had hoped that, now with the bigger space, they could host regular dinner parties, but Gabriel was never keen on the idea, and only relented at her insistence on having all her old friends over for her birthday. When she asked him if he’d like to invite some of his own friends to the party, he told her no. He had no one to invite. Then, at the party, although he plastered on a polite-enough smile and _faisait la bise_ when expected, she could tell that he was mildly annoyed with the chatty bunch who had invaded his castle. It was then, amid the scents of perfume and wine, amid the clink of glasses and laughter, that she finally recognized the true reason Gabriel didn’t make friends easily: he didn’t want to. It suddenly struck her that the reason Gabriel was routinely late in arriving at all the dinner dates that she had arranged with other couples over the years was, ostensibly, to avoid an hour of tedious conversation. Time and time again, she had bought his excuse of the last minute deadline or the unexpected cog in his work schedule. Now, in this beautiful space that she eagerly wanted to share with the world, with “our tiny apartment” no longer a valid excuse for their lack of hospitality, the truth about Gabriel became painfully obvious to her. Of course! He never invited anyone to visit, and he avoided her invitees, because he _liked_ being alone. 

Why, she now asked herself, didn’t this bother her while she was dating him? Why did she think that her friend group would eventually embrace him, and vice versa, even though he had carefully kept his distance from them the whole time? Why did she think that the tide would ever turn in her favor? Why did she never consider the alternate possibility? 

She quickly decided on a new plan. _If he’s going to routinely miss dinner with Adrien and me, we might as well have some company. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him._ So, a few times, she managed to have a couple of friends over to dine with her and Adrien when Gabriel stayed late at work. Adrien was always fascinated with these new people. Their clothes, their fragrances and their manner of speech were all so peculiar to him. Emilie’s guests would comment on how handsome and well-behaved he was, then promptly ignore him for the rest of their visit. Adrien didn’t mind; he was all eyes and ears.

Unfortunately, as it were, Gabriel was home long enough to share breakfast with his wife and son one morning after an evening when Emilie had company, and Adrien innocently recounted some of the things their guests had said. It was nothing scandalous, yet the guest’s opinion differed starkly from Gabriel’s own, and he didn’t want his son hearing such points of view. He promptly forbade Emilie from inviting any adults over when Adrien was home and awake without his express permission.

It had been difficult enough to maintain regular contact with her friends over the last few years, since their lifestyles had veered in different directions. Emilie was aware that, slowly and unintentionally, she and her friends had been drifting apart. Now, the goal of maintaining her friendships seemed almost hopeless. Gabriel found fault with most of Emilie’s friends for one reason or another, so she rarely saw them. He would allow her a birthday party every year, because it was always late, after Adrien had gone to bed. But otherwise, the only visitors they entertained were the Bourgeois and, occasionally, the Graham de Vanilys. No, this was not what she had planned, but what could she do? She couldn’t put up a fight. She didn’t have it in her.

She told herself she would try to focus on her blessings rather than her shortfalls. She had Adrien, a house, a husband and her health. She shouldn’t let her first-world problems bring her down. Yet even though she repeated it to herself like a mantra, deep down she was never convinced, never satisfied nor fulfilled.

* * *

The next four years passed unremarkably. Emilie put most of her effort into homeschooling Adrien. Her penchant for showmanship leant itself to her being a great instructor. She could make a boring subject entertaining and lighten any dull topic with a pun. By the time Adrien was nine, they had visited every museum in Paris at least once. They visited the Aquarium Tropical and Vincennes Zoo so frequently that they were on a first name basis with the admissions desk.

After Adrien's one year of maternelle, Emilie thought that he would miss having playmates, so she had offered to watch Chloé from time to time. At the time, the Bourgeois financial situation had declined due to some poor investment strategies, and since cutting back on fashion expenses was unthinkable, they went down to one part-time nanny. Therefore, the Bourgeois gladly took advantage of the periodic free babysitting. This arrangement continued through the years. When Audrey left Paris for New York to run Style Queen magazine, Emilie felt sorry for Chloé and André and continued to invite her over.

Emilie also took up studying Mandarin Chinese as a hobby. Her curiosity was revived one night when she caught one of her father’s old films on TV. She remembered he had filmed part of it in China when she was a little girl. The souvenirs he had brought home and the videos he showed her of the people and places in the Middle Country were as enthralling as they were unfamiliar. She decided that learning a tongue so foreign would be as good a distraction as any from her humdrum existence. Besides, while Adrien was attending sports activities, she had to fill her time with something. She needed an intellectual challenge, since portraying a fictional character on a stage was no longer an option for her. A tutor helped her learn the spoken word; still, most of her time was spent tackling the more difficult task of reading and writing. Memorizing new written characters daily was demanding, but satisfying. Radicals fit together like puzzle pieces; at times telling a story behind a word. At first, she begrudgingly completed the copybooks, resenting its repetitive nature, but eventually, as her familiarity increased and she progressed in speed, the graceful movements of proper stroke order felt gratifying, as though her pencil were dancing across the page. 

Yet filling her and her son’s time with activities never accomplished what she had hoped, never filled her with that missing _something_. Instead, the hole in her soul just grew bigger and bigger.

* * *

As she primped on the morning of their tenth wedding anniversary, Emilie reflected on the current state of her marriage. She stilled her hands and stared in the mirror, forcing herself to face the pain that she had kept beneath the surface for years. On this day ten years ago, she had married a man whom she thought would put her needs above his own, whom she thought would love and cherish her as a precious partner. But he had turned out to be just like all the others. This wasn’t a partnership. He owned her. He had caged her. She was lonely. Hot tears dragged her freshly applied mascara down her face.

She had wanted to be loved with a love that would renew and refresh her soul, like an artesian spring welling up under its own pressure, but she now saw that Gabriel’s love was like the mirage of an oasis, concealing a dry desert. He was distant, yet demanding, and that left her emotionally drained and depleted. 

Where had the affections he had displayed during their courtship gone? Had he ever truly loved her?

Emilie knew where his true devotion lay. Although he never touched another woman, Gabriel had a mistress to whom he devoted his entire self. It was present when they first met. Gabriel was in love with his work.

She should have seen it coming, really.

What was she to do? How could she get his attention? He always prioritized work time over family time. When they scheduled time together, whether it was all three of them or just the two of them, he always set an end time. Gabriel always had work to get back to. He thrived on it. It invigorated him. Emilie felt as though he didn’t need her or their son, that he would have been just as happy single as married with a child.

And that child! He was truly the light of her life. But Gabriel... well, of course he loved Adrien, but he didn’t show it very well. For one thing, he had never held Adrien much when he was little, and he never played with his son. It was as though he didn’t know how. Emilie thought that perhaps Gabriel was afraid of fatherhood. She had only met his parents once, at the wedding. They were just as stoic and reserved as their son. Her best guess was that he had never experienced tenderness from his own parents and so did not know how to display tenderness toward his child. She also knew that they had been very strict with him and held him to the highest expectations. That parenting style had clearly carried over to the next generation.

Emilie looked at her red, swollen eyes in the mirror. How she looked in this moment was how she truly felt. Finally, finally, she admitted to herself that she was unhappy. _After ten years of marriage, ten years of what I hoped would be bliss, I just feel miserable._

Nowadays, most unhappy wives would leave their husbands, file for divorce. But Emilie didn’t want a divorce. That would only cause another, weightier problem. It would shatter Adrien’s world. She couldn’t have that on her conscience. 

It was bad enough that Adrien had a dearth of friends his age because Gabriel wouldn’t allow home visits with other children. He played with others on the playground or at basketball practice, but was never allowed the opportunity for any of those friendships to develop outside of those settings. As a result, he adored Gabriel and Emilie. It was as though he were a lonely planet orbiting around twin suns, dependent upon them for heat and warmth. 

No, Emilie didn’t want to destabilize her son’s world. She was willing to continue suffering the slow death of her spirit if it meant that Adrien would finish growing up in a two-parent household. She had grown up in a two-parent household. Her parents had both grown up in two-parent households. That’s just how it was, how it should be. And as long as she didn’t rock the boat, as long as she kept her happy face on, her son would reach adulthood with a mother and a father he believed were in love.

Emilie was a hopeless romantic. She believed in marriage. Her own parents had quite obviously loved each other. And even though her grandfather had died before she was born, her grandmother Henriette used to tell her and her sister stories of when he was alive. The joy in her voice when she recounted those tales was infectious. It was obvious that they had a love as broad as the horizon and as deep as the sea. She remembered as a preteen thinking, _Someday, I hope I have a husband who makes my heart soar like that!_

That’s what Emilie wanted, what she still hoped for. _I want things to get better. I need this to improve. I hope that he can change._ She wasn’t going to leave him, and she couldn’t change the past. She could only look forward. The future held a choice. Either things would continue on this downhill path until she became a mere shell of a human being, or they could try to make a change. _Maybe I do need to rock the boat, just a little bit, but not enough for it to capsize. Just enough for me to get a hand on the helm and help redirect us to calmer waters._ She wasn’t exactly sure how she would go about doing that. When her previous relationships went south, she left. She couldn’t leave this one. She would have to have courage and lean in.

Speaking of rocking the boat, the marital bed was another area of their relationship that caused her suffering. Emilie no longer felt any sexual desire and hadn’t for years. She was so depressed that she didn’t even have sexual fantasies anymore. Yet Gabriel still approached her for sex on a regular basis. Despite never being in the mood, she knew that Gabriel still desired her and still had needs. She didn't want to deprive him of sexual pleasure, of that release and relief and comfort that her husband needed from time to time. Indeed, she had vowed to have and to hold him until they were parted by death. But the fact was that she didn't want him to feel her up, much less let him penetrate her. Hugs, cuddles and back rubs she welcomed. Anything that was supposed to be arousing... she would just rather not. 

Most of the time, she would tell him she wasn't in the mood. But at least once a month, she gave in and let him enjoy her body. She felt guilty if she gave herself to him any less frequently. In the beginning, he seemed concerned when she didn’t enjoy it, so she tried to fake it, but gradually and without much comment they both accepted that she wasn’t going to get anywhere, so she would quietly bear it. Eventually, she grew reluctant and began to dread having sex with her husband. Unknown to him, she would often silently cry herself to sleep afterwards.

Emilie remembered the strong sexual urges she had felt as a younger woman. Where did that go? She thought there must be something wrong with her. She felt broken, defective. She felt violated and used. And worse, she hated herself for those feelings - what excuse did she have to feel that way, when she’d given uncoerced and unconditional consent? 

Realizing that she was going to be late for breakfast, she grabbed a cleansing facial wipe and removed the mascara from her cheeks. As she reapplied the mascara properly, she decided that she ought to reach out to someone for advice. But whom? She was no longer close to any of her old college friends. Audrey had left for New York City and was a terrible listener (although she had had her own marital problems, so she may have been able to sympathize, but she wouldn’t be able to offer solutions). Her parents had retired to La Réunion; she didn’t want to worry her mother, or she’d threaten to board the next flight to Paris. There was only one person she could ask for help: her sister Amelie.

* * *

After their customary anniversary dinner, Gabriel went back to his office to finish up some designs, and Emilie tucked Adrien into bed before going to her room. She closed her bedroom door softly, thinking how much she resented the solitude and dreaded the silence. When she was lonely during the day, she could play the piano to escape the pressing feeling of social isolation. After hours, she could only read, but she didn’t feel like reading fiction tonight. 

As she soaked in the bath, her train of thoughts from this morning resumed its course. As a Graham de Vanily, Emilie had been conditioned to keep up appearances. And, as far as the media were concerned, the Agrestes appeared to be a perfectly happy family. She had tried to believe the lie, for years acting the part of the happy homemaker. No more. This morning, she had begun to tear down the façade of perfection, and she intended to finish. She chuckled to herself bitterly. Acting belonged on a stage. Real life was meant for real people with real emotions. 

Emilie dried off and donned some comfy pajamas, then stared at her phone. In order to get help, she needed to bare her soul, let down her guard, spill her guts. She would have to admit her weaknesses and allow herself to feel vulnerable, and there was only one person whom she could trust with this level of confidence. 

She and Amelie were still close after all these years. They talked on the phone at least weekly, chattering about the entertainment gossip and the evening news, and bragging about their sons. Emilie had vented to Amelie when Gabriel had mandated that she quit working and homeschool Adrien. Amelie agreed that Gabriel was being a total dick about the whole thing, but she thought that being a housewife and homeschool mom wasn’t a jail sentence. “I get where he’s coming from. You don’t have to run the rat race. Enjoy your time with Adrien. And if you’re still not happy at the end of the school year, ask him to reconsider. His reasons for wanting you home may fade over time. Perhaps he’ll change his mind.” When Emilie told Amelie that Gabriel had decided to restrict visits at their new house, Amelie scoffed and told her to ignore him and just keep having people over, and “Didn’t I tell you that there was something I didn’t like about him?” and “He needs to stop treating you like a child,” and, “If he keeps stomping on everything you want, you should threaten to file for divorce. Even if you just say it facetiously, those words are sure to get his attention.” Hearing the “D” word shut down Emilie’s thought process. Instead of following her sister’s advice, she decided that perhaps she had made a mountain out of a molehill and that she should just go along to get along. Since then, she had avoided complaining about Gabriel when speaking with her sister. 

Still, Amelie had been the one person who had encouraged her to leave her abusive boyfriends when she hadn’t had the courage to change her unhappy circumstances. Amelie was the one person who had seen her raw emotions and witnessed her stupid mistakes. Amelie had never been judgmental, only supportive. Certainly she would be willing to help Emilie again now.

When Amelie answered the call, she congratulated Emilie on her anniversary. Emilie’s sarcastic, “Thanks,” tipped off Amelie that something was seriously wrong. 

“What did he do now?”

“It’s… everything, Amelie.”

“He hasn’t hit you, has he?”

“No! I just... finally realized that I’m completely miserable and have been for years.”

Amelie huffed. “That damned English Channel and your damned acting skills! You never sounded sad over the phone, except for those few times. If I saw you more often, I probably would have noticed.”

“That’s neither here nor there at this point. Honestly, I was acting as much for myself as for anyone else.”

After a moment of silence, Amelie said, “So tell me what’s going on.”

Emilie hesitated. “You promise not to interrupt until I’m finished?”

Amelie rolled her eyes. “I promise.”

“Well.” Emilie sighed, unsure where to begin. “You know, I thought that perhaps I would fall in love with homeschooling the longer I did it. I’ve given it my all, and I love Adrien to the moon and back, but I feel so empty anytime that I’m alone. At _least_ Gabriel lets us go to museums and such, and I try to keep busy with my hobbies, but anytime I’m alone and unoccupied, I wonder what I’m doing here, why I even exist, apart from raising Adrien. Once he grows up and begins his adult life, what will I be? Who will remember me?

“I loved working with people because it made me feel connected. I loved seeing the joy in people’s faces. I need to know that my actions make a difference in someone else’s life. Not being able to contribute something to the lives of the people in my community makes me feel useless and ungrateful.

“And, I fear that it sounds like I’m whining when I say this, but I feel very lonely. I miss interacting with a variety of people. Adrien brightens every moment that I spend with him, but the older he gets, the less of those moments we spend together.” Emilie paused.

Amelie asked, “Are you done?”

Emilie sighed. “No. The worst thing is that Gabriel is a workaholic. He hardly spends time with us. I have to admit, he’s really not a good father to Adrien or a good husband to me. I’m tired of this charade. And I’m tired of giving and giving and giving, and _still_ feeling like maybe I’m falling short as a wife or as a mother.” Emilie paused. “Okay, I’m done.”

Amelie drew in a sharp breath. “So he’s locked you up in a cage and left you all alone.” She audibly exhaled, trying to calm herself. “Have you tried asking him again about going back to work? Maybe he’s softened on that after all these years.”

“Yes. I worked up the courage to ask him today at our anniversary dinner. He soured as soon as I brought up the topic.” Mimicking Gabriel’s voice, Emilie relayed his response: “‘This arrangement has been very successful, Emilie. Adrien has excelled in every subject. His manners are impeccable. He is a well-balanced and thoughtful child. Certainly you wouldn’t want to sacrifice those gains for your career aspirations?’”

“And you just crumbled?”

Emilie sighed. “When he talks like that, it’s pretty obvious that he doesn’t want to continue the conversation.”

Raising her voice slightly, Amelie countered, “If the topic is so important to you, don’t _let_ him end the conversation.”

“But if I keep talking, it’ll either end in an argument or he will stonewall me. Either way, once he’s made up his mind about something, he won’t reconsider. I can’t make him listen. Plus, he’s kind of scary when he’s mad.”

Amelie squeezed the bridge of her nose. “Have you asked him to go to counseling with you?”

“No. I can’t imagine that he would agree to that. I need to figure this out myself, Amelie. That’s why I’m calling you.” 

“There’s really not much I can do from 400 kilometers away.”

“Do you have any advice for me?”

Amelie chucked dryly. “Yeah. Leave him.”

Emilie shook her head. “I can’t.”

Agitated, Amelie asked, “Why not?”

“I won’t leave him. I’m not giving up that easily.”

Amelie growled and huffed. “Then _you_ ought to go to counseling by yourself. Don’t tell Gabriel about it if you don’t want to, but you _need_ to get some _help_.”

Emilie quieted, looking around nervously. “But…”

“No ‘buts.’ You’re going. Now, I’m going to get in touch with Paulette. She and her husband went to therapy a couple of years ago. She raved to me about her therapist and how much progress they’d made. I’ll text you the therapist’s number once I get it.”

“O-okay.”

“Call to make an appointment first thing in the morning. I’ll call you tomorrow night. Bye.”

Emilie heard the line disconnect and slowly pulled the phone away from her ear, staring blankly in front of her. Her insides roiled with a mixture of fear and hope: fear that Gabriel would find out, consider it a betrayal and clamp down on her more tightly; and hope that she was actually going to do something on her own, something to benefit herself and possibly her whole family.

The cogs in her mind started turning in an effort to pinpoint how best to sneak out to counseling sessions without suspicion, when her phone beeped. Opening her message app, she saw that Amelie had sent her a phone number for a Dr. Perle. She then noticed the time in the upper right hand corner, turned her phone off, closed it in the drawer of her nightstand and got into bed, turning off the light. She had no reason to think that Gabriel would look through her phone, but she couldn’t be too careful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Reyemile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reyemile) and [SteelBlaidd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelblaidd) for beta reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to both the Left to Write Writer’s Sanctuary and the [Miraculous Fanworks Discord Server](https://discord.gg/wcQvjyg) for advice, suggestions, and overall support.
> 
> Please know that I read and greatly appreciate all comments! However, I usually only respond if you ask me a question. Thank you for understanding.


End file.
